Good Morning
by FlyingAboveTheClouds
Summary: America wakes up and gets a bit nervous after remembering the previous night's...activities with England. Hopefully some advice from France will clear things up. Cute fluffy one-shot. USUK.


**Hey everyone!~ I haven't written anything in forever, so I thought while I had the time I'd write a fluffy one-shot. I've had so much schoolwork. Grr. And then there was this whole Hurricane Sandy thing. About 50% of my town is without power and some of the surrounding towns are 100% without power, including the town where I go to school so, YAY! NO SCHOOL! I was lucky and didn't lose power ^^ but my internet and cable were out until this morning. Anyway, stay strong East Coast! I hope we can all get our power back soon! **

America blinked, the early morning light shining into his eyes. He blindly reached out and tugged the chord hanging off to the left of his bed to close the blinds. He sighed in relief when the room dimmed down. He let his head fall back down on his pillow. His eyelids drooped down. Sleep was starting to carry him back into sweet oblivion.

Then he was startled to realize something.

Out of the corner of the eye, he saw something that was in the bed with him. It was a hand. And an arm that was attached to the hand. And a naked England that was attached to the arm.

Holy shit, England was naked and lying next to him in his bed.

He soon came to the realization that he was naked as well. No shirt. No shorts. Nothing. Memories of the previous night flooded back to him. He had taken England out on a date. Probably the first date they'd been able to have for several weeks. Their bosses had had them both running around until they were blue in the face, filling out paperwork, attending meeting after meeting, and talking to know-it-all politicians. They were seldom able to even find the time to call each other over the phone. Then, finally, there had been a world meeting in New York, and they had been able to come into physical contact with each other for the first time in what seemed like an eternity (but was actually a little less than a month). America had taken England out to dinner to what was apparently his favorite restaurant (England was pleasantly surprised to find that it wasn't a fast-food restaurant), and afterwards they went to America's place…and, well….

America slowly sat up, careful not to wake his bedmate. He let the reality of the situation set in. He was awake. England was still asleep. He and England had….

America gulped. What was he supposed to do in this situation? What would England think? Surely he wouldn't shrug it off and pretend like nothing happened. Would he be pissed off? Would he see America and immediately want to strangle him? Would he regret everything?

The questions were burning into America's mind as he sat on the edge of the bed, eying the sleeping European nation. He exhaled, trying to calm himself. He couldn't take his eyes off of the Brit. There was a lovely way that the sunlight that peeked through the blinds hit his body that mesmerized America.

He nearly jumped out of his skin when England suddenly rolled over, grunting slightly. America's heart seemed to stop beating. He didn't dare move, silently praying that England wasn't waking up. After a long pause, he heard England's slow but steady breathing. He sighed. He had to figure out something. Maybe he could plan out what he wanted to say…no, that would be dumb, it wasn't like he was proposing marriage or something. He scanned the room for his boxer shorts. Somehow, they had ended up on the other side of the room. He quickly pulled them on and took one last look at England before slipping out the door. He descended the stairs and made his way to the kitchen.

_Should I make him breakfast? It is my house, I guess…What the hell, I don't even know…_

He spotted his house phone and quickly grabbed it. Who would have good advice? He ran through a list of names in his head. Canada? Nah. Japan? No, he wouldn't have good advice. Obama? No, that would be embarrassing as hell. France! That was it! God knows how many people France must have slept with!

He held the phone in his hand, staring at the buttons and straining to remember France's phone number. Before he could even start dialing, the phone suddenly rang. He immediately answered it, not even bothering to check the caller ID, out of fear that the ringing might wake up England.

"Wassup?"

"Honhonhon, good morning Amerique!"

America's eyes went wide. "Dude, what the hell!? How did you know that I was about to-?"

"Oh, you cannot fool me, Amerique! I saw the way you and Angleterre ran right out of that room the second Germany said the meeting was over, saying that you were just "going out to dinner". HA! Anyway, I knew that you would be calling for advice."

"But we really did go out for dinner…" America pouted.

"Oui, _sure_ you did. So, what seems to be the problem, mon ami?"

America ran his hand through his hair nervously, "Well you know…"

"Aww, are you bad in bed, Amerique? Did you not last very long?" France teased.

"No! That's not it!" America said defensively. "It's just…Iggy and I made love for the first time last night and...he's still not awake…and I'm just not sure…what to do…" he trailed off.

"Wait a minute, you are on the land line aren't you? There is no land line in your bedroom! Where are you?"

"Um…in my house. How do you know that there isn't-?"

"Non! I mean _where_ in your house!" France interrupted.

"Oh. In my kitchen, why?" America asked.

"Why are you not in your bedroom with Angleterre?!"

"Oh, uh…well, I got nervous, and when I'm nervous I get hungry, so I went to go get something to eat. And then I saw the phone as I was like 'Hey I should call someone!' and then you called," America said.

"Ack! You-! Why-!? Ugh…" France sighed, exasperated, "You love Angleterre, don't you?"

"What?! Of course I do! He's, like, the most important thing in the world to me!" America said, rather offended by the question.

"And why did you have sex with him?"

"What kind of question is that?! Because I love him!" America nearly shouted.

"Well then go show him that."

"…Oh," was all that America could say. "…...Yeah, you're right. Thanks, France."

"Honhonhon. Good luck, Amerique!~"

America hung up the phone and placed back on the receiver. He gulped before heading back up the stairs. He quickly entered his bedroom. England was right where he'd left him; asleep in his bed. He made his way over to the bed and sat down. Then he waited.

After a few minutes, England started to stir. His eyes were still closed as he stretched his arms out. Thinking that England needing a little motivation, America leaned over, pressing his lips to the other male's. England let out a muffled gasp when he realized what was happening. America placed a hand on England's waist, assuring the older nation that everything was okay. England soon caught on, and moved his lips in synch with his lover's. Their hands touched. America quickly laced them together. England, content with this, gave America's hand a small squeeze. America returned the squeeze.

England suddenly started pulling away. America leaned in closer, determined to keep their lips locked. England put his hands on America's chest, and pushed him away. As soon as their lips parted, England gasped for air.

"Oh. Sorry," America laughed.

"It's okay," England panted, smiling weakly.

There was an awkward silence, neither was sure what to say. England couldn't take it anymore, "A-America, I-"

"Listen, babe, I love you. You know that, right?" America cut him off.

England beamed, "I know. And I love you too, darling."

America pulled England close to his body, pressing a quick kiss to his forehead. "How much do you love me?" he said playfully.

England snuggled into the younger man's chest, "More than anything."

The two lay there, gently holding one another. America ran his hand in small circles on England's lower back, knowing that it was probably sore after the previous night. They murmured soft words of endearment to each other, loving each second of their embrace.

England lifted his head slightly. "Wait…don't you have a meeting with your boss today, dear?"

"SHIT!" America leapt out of the bed, quickly trying to gather his clothes and find his suitcase. England, now wishing he hadn't said anything, suddenly found himself alone in America's bedroom. Despite his disappointment, he couldn't help but chuckle, "That fool."

He pulled the covers up to his neck, deciding to just go back to sleep. He and America would have plenty of chances to do that again. Maybe they could do that every morning; cuddle together and pretend like nothing else matters.

Then again, maybe nothing else really does matter.

**Yay! Fluffity-ness! :3 It's kinda short, but whatever. Please review~ **


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